


T-Minus Ten Minutes

by Twice_Shy (notboldly)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Speed Dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notboldly/pseuds/Twice_Shy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lydia drags Stiles to a speed dating event with her, he unfortunately finds himself more interested in the man sitting beside him than any of his actual dates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	T-Minus Ten Minutes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LMNO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMNO/gifts).



> Hello recip! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you enjoy it; I attempted to write the prompt you provided in your sign-up, but since it went in a decidedly less fluffy direction than planned, I wrote you this speed dating fic instead. This story contains minor mentions of Stiles/others and Derek/others beyond the tags, since it's a speed dating fic.

It took six text messages for Stiles to cave, and another four for Lydia to convince him to wear a suit. He should've been embarrassed about that, but whatever twinge of shame he felt at being so easily swayed was quickly dwarfed by the humiliation of meeting Lydia at her door with a _corsage_ while her neighbors gawked from the safety of their porch. Not even the sight of Lydia in a draped silk top was enough to make up for the experience, and he almost wished it _was_ high school all over again, if only so he could feel that rush of butterflies again.

As it was, he was mostly just annoyed, and maybe a little hungry for the pizza rolls in his freezer.

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

Lydia rolled her eyes and tucked her arm through the elbow that Stiles automatically offered when she came down the steps. Under _duress_ , he should note; if it had been up to him, he'd still be in his pajamas, not dressed in a suit that wasn't his style, on the way to what was sure to be one of the most awkward dating experiences of his life.

"You act like I'm throwing you to the sharks. It's _speed dating_ , Stiles, not Jaws."

"It might as well be. I can hear the music already!" Stiles paused. "You know, actually, I think Jaws is on Netflix. And I can't stress enough that I could totally be watching it _right now_."

"You didn't have to come."

Which…no, not technically. She'd asked him repeatedly even while he'd hedged around refusing outright, but Lydia had seemed determined to go no matter what he said, and that was exactly the sort of thing that led to trouble.

Stiles sighed and folded his hand over hers.

"I didn't want you going alone. Who knows what kind of creeps are at this thing? If I need to be the muscle, I'm up for it."

Lydia kissed his cheek, then immediately wiped at the lipstick mark she'd left.

"Thanks, Stiles, but it's through the police department. I think there will be fewer creeps than usual."

Clarity dawned.

"Let me guess. Parrish will be there?"

"Parrish will be there," she confirmed, looking rosy-cheeked and quietly pleased, and Stiles didn't begrudge her that, even if she was taking most of his Sunday night for what was apparently just an excuse to finally lure in the guy she'd been flirting with for months.

Stiles sighed again.

"You couldn't have just been my date to the police barbeque?"

She smiled and squeezed his arm, and then they set off down the sidewalk.

***

As a matter of principle, Stiles started humming the Jaws theme song as soon as they were within view of town hall. The crowd of people waiting outside was already impressive, and he wondered, idly, how they would ever sort them all, or even _fit_ them all in the building. While half of him was glad that this event wasn't being held at a cramped Starbucks, the rest of him was bemoaning the fact that it was his day off and he was back at work anyway.

Lydia pinched him in the side when he started to hum louder, but she too was eyeing the crowd.

"I didn't think this many people would show up."

Stiles shrugged.

"Beacon Hills is apparently the land of thirsty singletons. Go us?"

Lydia pursed her lips but said nothing, and they filed into line. By the time they made it to the sign-up desk, the crowd had thinned to a manageable size, and they filled out their forms quickly. They were each handed a name tag and directed to the main room, where several rows of tables and chairs were waiting, each with a bold number in the center. Stiles turned to Lydia, intending to ask her where she wanted to sit, but instead of seeing his friend-slash-ex, he saw just a glimpse of her red hair as she disappeared around the corner. Stiles was willing to bet she'd spotted Parrish, and he almost pitied the man; a Lydia on a mission was a force to be reckoned with, as evidenced by his being here at all.

All alone and feeling out of his depth, Stiles took a seat at the number nine table in the third row. The chair to his right was empty, most of the crowd still milling nervously around the front desk as they waited to see who would sit where, but to his left was possibly one of the hottest men Stiles had ever seen. He had dark hair and sharp features, a hint of stubble shadowing his perfect jaw, and even slouched down in his chair with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, he looked like he belonged on the set of some movie. Between that and the leather jacket hanging on the back of his chair, Stiles could easily see him as an action hero, a cynical, jaded detective who was only a fast car away from having to foil an elaborate bank heist. The image was a little intimidating, and Stiles wondered if he should move a few seats down; he couldn't think of a speed date who wouldn't be disappointed to immediately go from sitting across from a male model to sitting across from Stiles, but maybe some space would give them enough time for the punch of hotness to wear off.

He didn't move in the end, mostly because he was shallow; if Stiles was going to sit through ten probably-awkward dates in two hours, _purely_ for Lydia's sake (and, okay, partly because he was lonely and single too), he at least wanted to be able to glance at his hot table neighbor every once in a while.

The starting bell rang, and everyone else quickly took their seats.

***

The first woman who sat across from him was originally from Kentucky, and she spoke with a mild Southern accent that Stiles found utterly charming. She also, unfortunately, spent five minutes complaining about her ex, which was significantly less charming. When it was Stiles's turn to talk, he didn't know where to begin, and he settled for shooting her a tentative smile and saying, "So, what's your sign?"

She looked beyond offended, and Stiles mentally reviewed what he'd said. Oh God, he sounded like a sleazy pickup artist.

"That's not what I meant! My mom used to read all the zodiac fortunes in the paper, so I spent, like, a year really into it. I'm a Gemini. Ruled by Mercury, apparently?"

The explanation didn't seem to help.

"I'm an Aries, I think," she answered suspiciously, clearly not buying the fumbled explanation, and then they descended into awkward silence. Stiles mentally crossed Rebecca off his potential match list, and it was a relief when the bell rang again, signifying it was time for the women to move tables. As soon as she left, Stiles smacked himself in the face with his match card.

He was surprised to hear a soft huff of laughter from the table to his left, and when he looked over, Hottie with a Body was looking at him. Now that his arms weren't crossed, Stiles could see his nametag: _Derek_. He could also see his eyes, which were some shade of green and unfortunately exactly as attractive as the rest of him.

"This isn't a bar," Derek said, and Stiles blinked at him. "Try actually asking about their life; it'll get you further."

"What are you, the speed dating expert?" Stiles said, more than a little grumpy at tanking so hard on his first try. Derek shrugged and turned back to face the other side of his table, where his second date was getting settled.

"No. I'm a Capricorn."

"Oh, ha-ha," Stiles said, and then he pointedly looked away, just as the bell sounded.

***

His second date went much better, although Stiles refused to admit that was because he actually took Derek's advice. What Amy did for a living and why she'd been single up until then revealed she was career-focused and politically-minded, both things Stiles appreciated, and there was something weirdly interesting about talking to an entomologist. He was actually having a good time until, unfortunately, the "do you want kids?" question went over like a lead balloon.

"Oh yeah," she answered cheerfully, and Stiles was halfway to smiling back. "Six at least, although more would be better. I have twelve siblings."

If Stiles had been drinking anything, he probably would've choked. Six kids? Minimum? Stiles liked kids as much as the next guy, but he was also firmly in the maybe-two-or-three camp. Any more than that was a daunting prospect.

When the bell chimed again and Amy left, Stiles groaned. He wasn't even surprised to hear another laugh from Derek, although this time he mostly ignored him. Well, almost.

"Got something to say, Mister Nosy?" Stiles asked with a glare.

Derek shook his head, but he was smiling, so Stiles wasn't fooled.

"She told me two, not six. I think she was trying to scare you off."

"Maybe she was trying to scare _you_ off. You don’t exactly look like the nurturing type."

That got him a scowl, which entertained Stiles greatly, and when the sound of the bell came before Derek could respond back, Stiles started his next date with a huge grin on his face.

***

Stiles's third date, Kelly, talked so quietly that he had to strain his ears to hear her, and after about a minute and a half, he gave up. She seemed nice enough, but Stiles knew his own flaws, and one of them was that he had a tendency to talk over people at the best of times. He couldn't help it, but it did make it blatantly obvious that a relationship with someone sweet and soft-spoken was going nowhere. He still tried to smile encouragingly while she talked, though, so he at least didn't look like a total douche.

The date at the next table was way more interesting, anyway, and considering Derek had done it to him twice now, Stiles felt no shame in eavesdropping.

"So, then I grabbed his saddle, tight like this—" The girl, Paulina according to her nametag, made an impressive fist, and Stiles was really amused to see Derek looking almost alarmed in response. "And I _pulled_ , because otherwise he was going to slam me against the fence. Then I leaned to the side, which was a _terrible_ idea. I broke three bones when he tossed me across the ring, that fucker!" Her voice got louder as she told the story, something truly impressive since it was loud to begin with, and then the subject changed. She was in the middle of something about—her family? a pet? It was hard to tell—when the next bell chimed. Derek all but sagged in relief, and Stiles couldn't resist leaning over, close enough to smell Derek's spicy cologne.

"Try actually asking about their life; it'll get you further."

Derek scowled at him again, and then crossed his arms huffily.

"Shut. Up."

***

Paulina, as it turned out, was a world class bronc rider with a scar from a hoof imprint on her stomach. They got into an argument about humane animal treatment about a minute into their time, and when the bell finally sounded, Stiles's ears were ringing and he was only half-sure that the argument had been for fun. He circled the _maybe_ next to her name, and then glanced at Derek, who looked baffled. He hadn't been deliberately eavesdropping this time; Stiles was pretty sure even table one could give a play-by-play of that conversation, that's how loud they'd gotten.

Stiles shrugged and picked at his match card a little sheepishly.

"What? It's an important conversation to have."

Derek narrowed his eyes.

"What are you, a vet?"

"No, I definitely man a help desk. Here, actually."

Derek…sort of smiled? It was hard to tell, since he almost immediately looked away, and the possible smile was probably meant for his new date anyway.

"Well, I am. A vet, I mean."

The words, though, were clearly meant for Stiles, and he stared. A vet. That was, if possible, more attractive than Derek himself.

"Sweet, man." _Sweet man_ , Stiles thought, and then he promptly banged his knee into the table. At least it made Derek go back to looking sort of insufferable, so that was a plus. "I take it Paulina isn't a match for you, then?"

Derek snorted.

"Not so much, no."

Stiles nodded, and it was the first time the bell rang where neither of them was annoying the other.

***

The first thing Stiles learned about Beatrice was that she had zero interest in Stiles because she was apparently waiting to make it to table three. Stiles appreciated her being up front about it, especially since she looked like a pixie from hell and matched the dude at her chosen table eerily well, at least when it came to the number of studs in their ears. The fact that Stiles had zero chance of a second date with her made it easier to chat about random things, because even if she was only paying attention half the time, it was still going better for him than date one had.

Unfortunately, because Stiles was mostly babbling at random, that meant the majority of his attention was elsewhere. Specifically, he couldn't help but focus on the _completely silent_ table eight. Like, they weren't saying a word, the girl was even playing on her phone, and Derek had a perpetual grimace on his face and otherwise looked uncomfortable as hell. Stiles had half a mind to offer to switch seats with him just for that turn, except that would be weird.

When the bell chimed, Stiles heaved a sigh of relief, mostly because Derek did, and then he stared at the girl who quickly sat down across from him. To his surprise, she immediately put her phone away.

Stiles narrowed his eyes.

"Isn't that a little rude?" The girl looked up, and Stiles had to admit she was pretty, with dark hair and dark eyes. Still, who played on their phone for an entire date, even a speed date? It's not like Derek was bad to look at, if nothing else, but that was clearly _wasted_ on this girl.

Cora looked baffled.

"Excuse me?"

Stiles jerked his head sharply in Derek's direction. It wasn't subtle, but he didn't have time to be subtle. Literally; the clock was already counting down.

"You know, ignoring your date."

Cora laughed.

"Oh, no. No. That wasn't a date; he's my older brother."

Oh. Well, that explained why _Derek_ had looked so uncomfortable; Stiles felt like an idiot, especially now that he was looking. Cora looked almost like a younger, female version of Derek, minus the striking eyes and smugness.

"Yeah, I can see it. You're both the same level of hot, that's for sure."

Cora's expression went sly.

"Well, I'm glad Derek's at least making some _friends_ tonight." She leaned forward on her arms, the gesture pulling at the fabric of her shirt. The neckline abruptly went from being decent to being dangerously lowcut. "So, what do you say? Do you think we're compatible?"

"Uh." Stiles stared, but deliberately not at her cleavage. "We just met, and I don't know you at all?"

"Well, I'm not looking for a soulmate."

Stiles opened his mouth to respond, and Derek's voice cut across the space between their tables before he could get a word out.

"Cora. Knock it off."

Stiles glanced over, and he was baffled to see Derek glaring at the both of them. What the hell. Even if Cora was Derek's sister, that was no reason to assume Stiles was going to do anything. They probably weren't even a match in the first place!

Stiles made a shooing motion at Derek.

"Dude, it's only a conversation, chill. Go back to your date."

Then Stiles leaned forward on his elbows, matching Cora's interested stance. He didn't look at Derek again, even though he was sort of _aware_ of him for the entire date regardless. Big brother instincts like whoa; Stiles made a mental note, but he still let himself get lost in the conversation anyway. When the bell sounded and Cora left to go to her next table, Stiles continued to deliberately ignore Derek, pretending to be in deep thought about his selection of _yes, no,_ or _maybe_. It was mostly for show; Cora was funny in a mean way, and smart, and attractive. She should've been perfectly his type, but for whatever reason, Stiles wasn't really interested in matching with her.

Oh well, he thought as he reluctantly circled _no_. Sometimes there just wasn't any chemistry.

***

Jamila was new to Beacon Hills, and she was more interested in making friends than finding a boyfriend. Stiles was honestly fine with that, because it took him about a minute and a half to realize that she was a little too jovial for him. Part of it was probably a front derived from nerves, but if even half of it was genuine, Stiles was pretty sure he'd choke on the cheer if they ever went on an actual date. It was a shame, though; aside from Derek, Jamila was probably the best looking person in the room, with huge brown eyes and smooth dark skin. Model-beautiful.

Stiles wondered, idly, if she'd circled _yes_ for Derek, and then he deliberately pushed the curiosity aside. He didn't want to know, honestly, and it was besides the point anyway; she'd said she was looking for friends, and Stiles happily took her at her word. When their time was up, Stiles circled _maybe_ immediately and wrote "as friends" in the margin, because she was a librarian, and he worked a block down the street from the public library. A friendship could totally work.

Stiles was still deep in thought, thinking about friendship and match cards, when he felt a touch on his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his chair, and he turned, scowling, to find Derek looking at him apologetically.

"Sorry about that. And, uh, sorry about earlier. Cora likes to rile me up sometimes."

It took Stiles a moment to remember what he was talking about, but when he did, he waved it away.

"No worries. That's what siblings are for, or so I've heard." At Derek's blank look, Stiles gestured to himself. "No experience on this end."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense. You're the Sheriff's son, right?"

Stiles opened his mouth to ask _how the hell_ Derek knew that, except then Derek pointed to his name tag, and oh, right. Not too many people named Stiles in Beacon Hills, and anyone who'd been in town more than five minutes had probably heard about his exciting high school years. It was almost embarrassing, honestly.

Stiles swallowed and tried his best to look nonchalant when he answered.

"Yeah, I am. That's me."

He braced himself for the reaction to the news, but Derek just smiled faintly and nodded.

"Cool."

Derek turned away, but Stiles didn't, not immediately.

Cool. He could deal with cool.

***

Derek's eighth date was with Lydia, something of a surprise considering Stiles had half suspected she'd skipped off with Parrish an hour ago. Apparently she'd decided to go through the speed dating motions after all, though, and Stiles couldn't resist leaning over as soon as she sat down, a wide smile on his face.

"Lydia! My moon and stars!"

Lydia smiled back, expression fond and friendly.

"Stiles."

Derek glanced between them uncertainly.

"Do you two know each other?"

"Friends," Lydia said, with a beatific smile aimed at Derek. It was actually returned, too, albeit with a smaller version that was unfortunately no less stunning.

"And exes," Stiles added, because it was important to him, all of a sudden, that Derek know Stiles was capable of seeming attractive to hot people. "But mostly friends."

Derek seemed almost interested by that, and he was opening his mouth to ask something when the bell chimed. He mouthed 'later' at Stiles, before he turned around in his seat and began talking to Lydia.

Stiles turned back around as well, feeling oddly disappointed. He'd almost forgotten there was a perfectly nice woman sitting at his table, and he smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging manner, only to draw a complete blank when it came to questions.

"So. Uh. What's your sign?"

***

Michelle stormed out two minutes into their date, which got him a consoling pat on the knee from Lydia and a pitying look from Derek. The second, for whatever reason, felt worse than the first.

***

Stiles's final date was Stacia, and she was nice enough, but unfortunately, she also bore an uncanny resemblance to the first girl Stiles had dated in college. Needless to say, it hadn't ended well, and although the two had wide and different interests, when the final bell chimed and the time came for Stiles to fill out the remainder of his match card for processing, he couldn't remember whose interest was whose. That was probably a bad sign, and he sighed, forlorn, when he looked at his match card and saw only two _maybes_ and not a single _yes_. It was exactly like he'd thought it would be at the beginning, but he couldn't help being disappointed anyway; nobody liked having written proof that they were romantically awkward.

Stiles turned to his left, prepared to say something like that to Derek, and saw only an empty chair, sitting among others of the same as the room cleared out. It made him feel even worse, not that it took him long to figure out why, now that he had a moment to think about it; if he'd had the option, he was positive he would've circled _yes_ for _Derek_. It was just his luck.

Stiles grumbled and went to turn in his match card. Although he strained his eyes for the sight of Derek's leather jacket, he didn't see it, and he circled the room a couple times, even ignoring his phone when it buzzed in his pocket. When most of the crowd had thinned out, he nearly ran over Lydia in his haste to check outside. Fortunately, she caught his arm, her grip gentle and familiar, and tugged him along until he was once more keeping pace with her on the sidewalk. It was probably for the best, anyway; he could've asked Derek for his number, but he didn't think the probable rejection would've helped his mood any.

Stiles pasted a smile on his face and tried to get his mind off the entire ordeal, as quickly as possible.

"So, how'd it go? Any potentials on the list who could outshine Parrish?"

Lydia hummed thoughtfully, almost to herself.

"Well, Derek seemed nice."

Stiles's stomach dropped like a stone, because apparently there _was_ something worse than asking for Derek's number and being shot down: watching his friend date the first person he'd been interested in since he came back home. They'd look fantastic together, they'd get along perfectly, and then Stiles would give a speech at their wedding, awkwardly recounting the tale of them meeting at speed dating and having an _instant connection_.

Before he could sink too deeply into his fantasy of despair, Lydia punched him lightly on the arm and shot him an exasperated look.

"Honestly, Stiles, I didn't mean for _me_. I'm not the one he was interested in, and I'm definitely not the one he was staring at during our date!" Lydia pulled out her phone and shook it for emphasis. "I sent you his number earlier; I was the only one on his match card, apparently, because he wanted me to give his number to _you_."

"Oh." Stiles immediately fumbled for his phone, and sure enough, there was the text from Lydia with an unknown number and the name 'Derek Hale' attached.

Lydia shook her head, looking put upon at being the middle man. Stiles didn't care; he _loved_ her for this.

"Honestly, I don't know how you managed without me."

"Nobody knows." He kissed her on the cheek, because turnabout was fair play. Then, he held up his phone. "Can we stop for, like, one minute? Real fast, I promise."

Lydia made a _go ahead_ gesture, and Stiles typed out his text, fingers shaking.

**Hey this is Stiles. Do you wanna go on a date with me sometime, maybe without any other dates this time?**

He shoved the phone back in his pocket before he got a response, and he focused entirely on walking Lydia home, and listening to her account of the night. Unsurprisingly, her dates were just as colorful as his.

When he'd safely dropped her off and he climbed back into his jeep, he had a text waiting for him.

**Sure. What time? I'm free tomorrow.**

Stiles grinned so hard, he was sure his face was going to hurt in the morning.

***

END

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is very welcome, and I hope you all enjoyed; come visit me on [Tumblr](http://notboldly.tumblr.com) if you want!


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